Those Dark Days
by Alice R. Llewelyn
Summary: There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who possess the courage to live, and those who possess the courage to die. I no longer know which one I possess. I remember I once possessed it-the courage to live, I mean. It once shaped my life, just like it shaped many others. But things happen, time passes. The war happened. Story told through Hermione's Diary .
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** The author of this story does not own the Harry Potter world, or any characters in this story. They all belong to JK Rowling. The author does not make any profit from this story. This disclaimer applies to the entire story.

_Author's Note:_ Long time reader, first time writer. Still getting the hang of this website as well. Hope you all enjoy(:

WARNING: This story contains a lot of angst. It is not a happy story, and contents might be depressive for some readers. Only the reader knows what they like, so read at your own discretion. There are no explicit themes, only implications. There is character death, but they are not the main characters.

Setting:  Post-Hogwarts, Voldemort wins. One year after the war.

_..._

_Those Dark Days, _Chapter One.

_..._

**February 15th, 1999**

Dear Diary,

There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who possess the courage to live, and those who possess the courage to die. I no longer know which one I possess. I hope it's the latter. I remember I once possessed it-the courage to live, I mean. It once shaped my life, just like it shaped many others. But things happen, time passes. The war happened.

It was tough. I thought we were going to win. We could have. We were really close, with six horcruxes destroyed with our own blood, sweat, and tears. But Harry never made it out of the forest alive. I still see Hagrid carrying his limp and mangled body every time I close my eyes. I see a lot of things when I close my eyes. Voldemort, Hogwarts in pieces, friends, foes, human beings. Blood... So much loss. That was the day our innocence was completely lost. We had lost it before then, but that day, after all that happened, it went away completely.

Voldemort won. I spent months in denial of this, because there was still a chance, as long as we hoped, but I see now there is none. Everyone is too afraid. I am too afraid. The conditions we all face... it's all way too much. I can't handle it.

I need to thank Molly for saving my sanity, however. She brought me you, diary. She told me to write everything in it. My thoughts, opinions, fears, hopes, uncertainties... everything. So I took her word for it. This helps-definitely keeps me in check. Life is dark right now, even just one year after the war. It will be dark for a while, so this diary will be my best friend. The only trouble is hiding it. This diary is an act of rebellion. It helps me believe I am fighting against him still. If this book were found, it would surely mean death, because my kind aren't allowed to own any property. Or anything. Just being in the Wizarding World is a rebellious act, because I am not supposed to be living here anymore.

The Ministry of Magic had all the muggle-borns exiled and moved into the Muggle World. They took their wands, destroyed them,and sent them away. I was scheduled to have my wand confiscated and appear at the Ministry to be shipped away to the muggle world with the rest of my kind, but I didn't show. Someone else did, posing as me under polyjuice potion. To this day, I still don't know who it was, or why they did it, just that they did. But I thank them nonetheless.

Molly and the other Weasleys keep me in the basement, which is hidden under a trapdoor in their livingroom. Well, their only room. They no longer live in the Burrow. It was burned down long ago by Death Eaters. I don't know what their place looks like or how big it is, because I have never been up there. I can't be seen. I only know what they have told me about this place, and what I can gather. They share quarters with another family, and between the both of them they split the rent of their place so they can get by. The Weasleys feed me, and keep me company when they can. For that, I am also thankful.

**February 16th, 1999**

Molly finally visited. The Weasleys usually alternate their visits with me. They can only stay for what I believe to be an hour, because they have obligatory duties to attend as members of this new dictatorial world. They bring me a lot of food, and tell me news of what is going on, which is never good. Today Molly had informed me that a whole family was publicly executed for holding a reunion to rebel against Lord Voldemort. Some people are driven mad by the state this world is in, so they try to rise against their oppressors. Others live in quiet disagreement. But we all live in fear. It makes me sick. This is why no one will take a stand. Because it means immediate death. No one can even say "Voldemort" aloud, we must use, "His lordship." No one even enjoys life anymore. Except Purebloods of the highest degree, that support Voldemort. They walk around freely, with rights, and freedoms, while blood-traitors and half-bloods have trouble getting employed. On top of that, people of lower status have duties each is expected to do. Molly refuses to tell me what they are, and Ron won't either. They say they don't want me to worry about them too much, and knowing what they have to do will make me depressed. They truly do try to keep me as content as possible. I try, mostly because they work so hard to keep me hidden and alive. But I can't live with the guilt sometimes that I am just a weight on all of their shoulders, and that if I were found, it could cost them their lives.

Ron seems to be in the same state as I. He is depressed and tired of all this. He was never the same after he saw Harry dead. He became hard, and cold sometimes, as if he had an invisible shell around him. It's not easy seeing your best friend die. It drove me mad too, seeing Harry, but I dealt with it differently. Something in me snapped. I think from then on I was broken. But when Ron visits, and when we have our precious time together, we numb our pain. It helps.

Anyways, while Molly was here, she told me Death Eaters publicly tortured Neville Longbottom, for spitting on some pureblood's shoes. He died after six hours.

**February 17th, 1999**

I think I am losing my will day by day. But I have to keep living, I have to keep pushing. For the Weasleys. For Neville and Harry. For the world. Sometimes, I lie to myself and think I can fight this. That I can live through it, and see better days. Can I?

**February 18th, 1999**

Voldemort has attacked muggle London. Wiped out all muggle villages surrounding the city as well. All I can think of is my home. That's why my mum and I made cookies, and watched films. Dad read me books before I went to bed. I first learned to ride my bike on our driveway. Now it is probably nothing but memories. I never quite grasped why the Weasleys were so adamant about keeping me here in the Wizarding World, but I understand now. They would have practically been sending me off to die. As sad as I am to find out about this, I am thankful that Arthur told me.

**February 19th, 1999**

I hate not knowing what time it is. It seems like a petty thing to complain about given all that is going on, but time is a small comfort to me. I constantly live in the dark, as there are no windows in the basement, so I cannot tell when it is morning, or night. It is always dark. This room is too small, with just enough room for a twin mattress and a ladder leading up to the Weasley's living quarters. I haven't had proper sheets, or clothes. But I'm not blaming anyone. The Weasleys barely have clothes for themselves.

Later that night-

Had another dream about the war. I heard Arthur telling the other family living with them that Molly had nightmares again. I don't know how much longer the other family will believe them, because the screams come from the floor.

**February 20th, 1999**

Ron came to visit today. He couldn't stay long however, he said he had to go to the Ministry. He wouldn't say what exactly, no matter how much I try to pry it out of him. I just have nothing to do all day so information is really vital to life right now. I told him about the lack of time and light, and so he gave me the deluminator Dumbledore had given Ron in his will. I had no idea he still had it after all this time. I have long lost track of Tales of Beedle and the Bard. I hardly read anymore. But on the bright side (no pun intended), I have light. He says the clock will come later. He also brought me news: Voldemort attacked the muggle world again. Wiped out a large amount of cities along the Spanish coast, just for fun. Every time I hear something like this, I worry for my parents. Are they alive and well? I can't bear knowing something happened to them. They're still under the memory charm I gave them over three years ago.

**February 21st, 1999**

Ron got me a clock. It's simple, and black. It's 4:23pm. It is dark inside this room, so I shall turn on the deluminator.

"Light can be found, even in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light." From the wise words of Albus Dumbledore.

**February 22nd, 1999**

It is 2:43am. I relived the war. I saw Lavender Brown, lying there while Greyback...Fred, Snape, Remus and Tonks. Harry. And the last thing I ever said to him before he left. I tried to go with him. I really did. But he had to do it alone, he had said. Perhaps things would have been different if Ron and I went. He could have stood a chance. I woke up crying, shaking with screams, and my voice is hoarse.

4:05pm

George came down to see me today. Gave me a dreamless sleep draught with an apologetic look on his face. He says to take it every night before I sleep, no exceptions. I think the other family is getting suspicious.

George's eyes are dead. Devoid of emotion. Just like mine. I guess that's what happens when a part of us dies. But it made me angry. We have to fight against this. The dead should be nothing but a reminder of how much we need to believe in ourselves and never lose hope. Because Harry, Fred, Neville and countless others never did. We can't shut down when people are torn from our lives. And we must never lose hope.

So I did something I would have never imagined doing: I carved the word "rebellion" on the wall with a shard of glass I found in the corner of my room. I haven't got anything else to carve with. My fingers are bleeding right now, but I don't care. I didn't feel the pain. I imagined it was Voldemort, and Bellatrix. Greyback too. Then I cried, because I think I am going insane. I can't go insane. Not now. Not while there is still a chance to fight this.

**March 2nd, 1999**

I blame Ginny. She interrupted my thoughts. She came to ask if I was still writing, and told me to keep going once I told her I had stopped. I didn't even realize I stopped. I suppose Molly and Ron grew worried about me . Every time they came down to see me I was staring at the carving I made. Rebellion. Ginny told me this diary is a rebellion. So I feel better now because of that. I'm fighting back, quietly. Ginny also tells me no one was executed or tortured in a while, because everyone is too afraid. So things have been rather still. I didn't reply. I just sat there until she left. I am afraid that any comment I make will diminish the little hope I have left in me.

**March 3rd, 1999**

I remember how I refused to believe that the Chosen One never made it out of the forest alive. He had to live. He just had to. No matter what everyone else had said over the years, or how Ron was jealous of him during our childhood, there was no denying that Harry Potter embodied the spirit of hope and fight. If Harry didn't live, who else would fight?

Then Neville responded to our fears, and took the void previously filled by Harry. He told us what we should have assumed from the beginning: He will always live on. In our hearts, and in our souls. That's when everyone began to look up to Neville. He was everything we needed then. He led the last fight for our lives. That was the last time anyone ever thought Voldemort could die, once and for all. But Death Eaters eventually caught Neville a good three months after the rising. They caught Ron and I a week later. I can't even bring myself to even write about what happened, let alone think about it. All I can say is, I gave up. On everyone. Ron did as well. We were just too broken to carry on, and too tired to fight. We thought we could at least save ourselves a shred of happiness together if we laid low. So things died down. Those who opposed Voldemort but were too weak to fight, showed support to the light by tattooing a lightning bolt on the back of their neck. I have one. Ron, and the Weasleys do too. It's a symbol, I suppose. A reminder for us more than anyone, to convince ourselves that we were still fighting-somehow. Of course, if anyone happened to see the lightning bolt, the person wearing it would be executed.

We lived quietly for about four months. Pretty much the same as present times. Ron and I tried to be happy with each other for company. I remember I wanted a child, more than anything. But I would have to be barking mad to raise a child in a world like this. So we found other ways to forget the terror. I know that if we ever get the chance-if this ever gets any better-I want their names to be Rose, and Hugo Weasley. A girl, and a boy.

**March 4th, 1999**

3:43am. Dreamless-Sleep Draught isn't working. I need something stronger. Stronger than the pain I suffered under Bellatrix's wand, or the countless curses fired at me for my blood.

**March 5th, 1999**

1:32pm. Ron keeps me going. Although he forces himself to be optimistic around me, it does help. I wish I could capture his spirit, and the will to keep going, along with his kisses and touches in a bottle, to open whenever I feel down. He's the only one I truly truly love. I tell him all the time. He's the only thing I have left. Love is a very powerful thing.

**March 7th, 1999**

6:30pm. I heard Molly crying upstairs. She cried for a half hour. I wonder what happened. It worries me tremendously.

7:41pm.

Ron came. Told me things were not going too well. Molly got fired from her position at the Ministry because she refused to torture a half-blood. She probably won't find a job anytime soon, the way things are going. No one wants to hire a blood traitor. Arthur is now the only source of income for the Weasleys. With that, they only have enough to pay the rent, nevermind food. Now George, Ginny, and Ron are looking for jobs to help out on top of their obligatory duties.

They didn't work before because it's dangerous and traumatizing. Only purebloods have decent jobs. The others hold shameful occupations. Some are even hired to torture their own. It keeps the masses separate. I wish I could help. I'm just dead weight on the many things plaguing this family.

**March 8th, 1999**

2:45am. No money. No dreamless-sleep draught. No draught. Many screams.

It was Bellatrix in my nightmares tonight. That scar she carved is still on my arm. Mudblood. It won't go away. Neither will the sound of Bellatrix's cruel, cold laughter. They can't even place a silencing charm on my room. Blood traitors and Half-bloods have limited amounts of magic they can perform. Silencing charms are not one of them. Voldemort doesn't like secrets.

**March 11th, 1999**

3:21pm. I am starving. Arthur brings only news now. He keeps apologizing, and I tell him to stop. It is not his fault. Imagine the poor man's pride, after slowly watching his family go hungry. Molly is so thin now. She is no more the plump and cheerful woman she used to be. I can tell she and Arthur have not slept. One can't expect the man to sleep when his family is falling apart. And there he stood, right there, apologizing for not bringing me food.

**March 12th, 1999**

5:01pm. Molly brought news. Seamus Finnigan blew up Borgin and Burkes. I remember that store used to sell dark objects and such. I felt a wave of admiration and hope. I looked at the word "rebellion" on my wall. It's happening. For the first time, I am glad exploding potions at Hogwarts paid off for him.

7:32pm. Ron came down to tell me Seamus will be executed tomorrow at three o'clock. Attendance is mandatory for all citizens. I cried. Is there no justice? Where is the light at the end of the tunnel we are all desperately awaiting? Are all attempts made to rebel pointless? Here's to the Irish boy who managed to explode his feather performing a levitation spell, and blast his goblet in attempt to turn it into rum. For the young man who's potions kept blowing up in his face, and completely destroyed the wooden bridge during the war.

For the man who burned down Borgin and Burkes.

REBELLION.

**March 13th, 1999**

3:32pm. I can't keep Seamus from invading my mind. Ron said he died honorably: Head high, and silent. I suppose he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

**March 15th, 1999**

4:15am. It was a very strange and powerful dream. Everyone fell dead to the floor, pools of blood filling up the room I was trapped inside. I was... drowning in it. And then- a flash of light, and the light left Seamus' eyes. I found that when I woke up with a start, shaking and convulsing, that I could not talk. My throat hurts like it never has before, and the little sound I can make comes out as a hoarse whisper. I am scared now. Terrified, because screams can be heard.

6:27am. I hear screaming, and shouting from above. I'm frightened. Molly, Arthur, and Ron are all shouting vehemently, and unknown voices are arguing back. I can't make out what they're saying because it all sounds muffled. But I can't shake the pestering feeling that it's about me.

3:16pm. I can barely write. I can't see through the tears. Ron came down today. He had many bruises, along his jaw and eye. He told me the other family heard my screaming last night, and they didn't believe Arthur's lies. I gather it turned violent, because they wanted to protect me.

They found out. They found out. They found out.

Ron says they might just possibly keep it a secret, but even he doesn't seem so convinced. If the other family were found to be knowledgeable of my stay they would suffer.

A/N: Hope you all like it! I update often, so my next update will be tomorrow and at the latest Thurday (8/16/12). If you like it, please review, I would really appreciate it :D


	2. Chapter 2

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_Those Dark Days - _Chapter Two

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**March 16th,**** 1999**

We are taking precautions now, if the worst happens. When the worst happens. Arthur came down and placed a charm on my diary, so that it is only visible to me, and those who I want to show it to. Ron is spending more and more time with me. This whole mess is my entire fault, and the guilt is cutting me like the worst pain I have ever felt. If the other family alerts the Ministry it is not only my death, but the Weasley's as well. I don't mind being responsible for my own death, but the others? An entire family? I will have murdered them all. Or as good as.

This is all my fault. All mine. This room seems like a palace now. This is all my fault. How can I live with myself?

**March 17th, 1999**

8:32am. I am so frightened I dare not even breathe if I can help it. I am expecting officials to take me at any moment now. Ron and I talked about death, and I soon became so shaken, he pulled me close to calm me down. I told him my fears, and released my guilt about how this was all because of me, and he told me that it was okay. Because he was happy to leave. He said that where we were going, there were blue skies, and a cozy house where Rose and Hugo were waiting for us. We could pass the time there. I could dress Rose in beautiful dresses, and make her look like a princess, while Ron could play quidditch with Hugo, and we would laugh, and make cookies together on a rainy evening. We would pass the time there, in our cozy cottage, and be truly happy. Free. I would love that. But I didn't picture leaving this life so soon. I still have to make it better for the ones who don't have a paradise to go to.

**March 20th,1999**

4:30pm. How can we all expect to rise against these dark forces when we are all constantly turning against each other? We are all struggling. We are all on the same side-aren't we?

They're coming for me. The Ministry. The fear of leaving familiarity makes me tremble unbelievably. Ron spent his last night with me, and I gave in to his kisses, and touches... his caresses. It was a taste of what our new life will be.

**April 30th, 1999**

I finally have time to write. It feels like home, to have this quill in my hand, and diary to write in. Many things have happened. Some of which are still tender topics.

Ministry officials brought me to their jail in the Ministry I think March 21st. I was kept there a long time. Perhaps two days. I spent those days doing nothing but wonder about the Weasleys. I can't bear to write what that was like for me. Painful.

Then they made me watch. _They made me watch._ Along with all the other citizens. But I had a front row seat. All you could hear was the spell called, and my screams, as the light left each and every single pair of eyes. I have to stop writing. I can't control the tears. The guilt and pain are unbearable.

**May 4th, 1999**

I keep seeing the light leave his eyes. The green light. Avada Kedavra. And his face as he turned to get one last glimpse of me. I can't wait to die. I can't wait to go to that place, where our children are. I wonder what it's like, to die. Just so I could at least have some peace of mind that the Weasleys didn't feel any pain.

**May 20th, 1999**

I'm still in the Ministry. From what I gather, I'm in a large execution line. Everyone here has committed a crime in the eyes of Voldemort. Everyone here is waiting. My cell is small. A ministry officer comes and feeds me once a day. The food tastes like dirt, but I must eat it, because it is all I get. This diary truly helps me. I don't have to think about things that trouble me so much. Thank you, Molly.

**May 21st, 1999**

Apparently, death isn't the only price I have to pay. Death Eaters pull me out twice a day and question me on how I got past the ministry during their quest to send all muggle-borns back, and other questions about how they hid me. When I say questioning, I mean interrogating. I mean torture. I refused to betray them with anything. So Death Eaters used force. I came back whipped, hit, battered, and weak from cruciatus curses. But I had also managed to return with my mouth shut. I refuse to speak. Or else they died for nothing. It's the least I can do.

**May 22nd, 1999**

I am hardly ever surprised, anymore. Life has taken surprises from me. Along with all the people I loved. But I was surprised today, for the first time in three years. Funny, given the circumstances. But I was. I bet he was too. He put the food in my bowl, as usual, but he looked up. I did too. I don't usually bother looking at people, because then you see their emotions. And that can really affect you. Anyways, it wasn't so much that it was Draco Malfoy, but more that he wasn't himself. His eyes were worn and dull. His face was pale, and his appearance was just gaunt. He reminded me of the way he looked back in our sixth year of Hogwarts. I just stared. He finally tore his eyes away from the sight of me and moved to the next stall.

This isn't a job for a pureblooded wizard.

Sometime at night:

It seems I am not the only one with nightmares. Persons in neighboring cells scream too. Together, a cacophony of nightmares.

**May 23rd, 1999**

He doesn't carry himself like he used to. I remember he was once a proud, aristocratic, snobby git. He bragged about his father, his name, his status. I remember he and Harry would taunt each other, and he occasionally quarrelled with Ron, which nearly always ended up in a physical argument. He never bothered with me though, unless he had a good reason to. Like second year, when he called me a mudblood. Then he proceeded to ignore me, like I wasn't worth the dirt under his shoes.

And now look. I almost want to laugh at the irony, but I'm truly curious by the turn of events. Food's here. I'm starving.

**May 24th, 1999**

One bowl of rubbish isn't enough to keep one alive. I am thinner and weaker than ever. I can't leave the thing I call a bed sometimes. I am losing the will to fight. Losing hope. I wrote "REBELLION" on the dirt floor, to keep me going.

Later:

Death Eaters pulled me out for questioning again. I am almost proud to say I did not utter a single scream. But I can see they're baffled as to how I escaped under their nose. They'll never know. Upon returning to my cell, Malfoy came back with the empty pot of food. Probably done giving it to all the prisoners. I noticed his mouth was bloody; I suppose one prisoner probably gave him what he deserves. Anyways, he abruptly stopped at the sight of me. Sort of froze there. Then he touched his bleeding lip, and surveyed his now bloody fingers. Then looked back at me. I think I saw something like realization, and resolve take over his dead eyes. He walked away without a word. It took me a moment to realize I was covered in blood too.

**May 25th, 1999**

Draco Malfoy comes to refill my bowl every day, once a day. I think he avoids me gaze. Just pours exactly two ladlefuls into my bowl and leaves. I suspect it had something to do with our encounter yesterday.

**May 26th, 1999**

Ron. Ronald. Billius. Ronald Billius Weasley. Ron, Ginny, Molly, Arthur, George, Ron, Ron, Ron. Weasley.

I'm so sorry. But you're all okay. Right? In our cozy house, waiting for me, and keeping Rose and Hugo company?

Later that night:

I watched them all die again. Why can't I stop watching them all die? I'm so scared for myself. My death. But I have no one to be alive for. My dreams consist of fire red hair, and my screams consist of the word, "Ron." The whole page is damp with tears right now so I must stop writing.

**May 28th, 1999**

I really want to know what Malfoy is doing here. Death Eater scum. His side killed Neville. Seamus. Harry. Ron. Ginny. Arthur. Fred. George. Ron. And many others. His side is ruining me. Us. Life. I hate him.

He passed by with a bowl of food. I couldn't get up to even go fetch it. Somehow, it's all his fault. I'm glad he's leading a miserable life, like the rest of us. All that time he boasted about being on the right side and look how he ended up. Just like the rest of us. Though he is still in a better position than I am.

**May 30th, 1999**

Something happened today. When Malfoy dropped off food, he dropped of more than he usually gives me. Four ladlefuls. That's double what I usually get. He usually fills half the bowl. Today it was full. What is he doing? What is he trying to prove? I don't understand where he's going with this, but every time I glimpse his empty, sad, grey eyes as he passes, I get the feeling that perhaps I am not the only one who's suffering in this world.

**June 1st, 1999**

There's no one to talk to. Usually, I have the Weasleys. The only company is Malfoy. So I try and talk to myself. How long does it take to die? I'm still waiting. I want to see Ron, Rose, Hugo, Harry, my family, and friends.

**June 2nd, 1999**

I am getting stronger, yet still unbelievably thin. I can at least get up to grab my food. Today Malfoy dropped off half a loaf of bread. A whole half!

Why?

Now I am able to resist questioning a bit more.

**June 3rd, 1999**

I did it. I plucked up the courage to ask him. As he dropped off my food. He had more bread with him. He put it next to my plate and I suddenly grabbed his hand. I felt his hand flinch away as if he was afraid of me. But no disgust. Just fear. Then I said, "Why?"

He just stared. Then he walked away, giving food to the person in the next cell.

Later that night:

Ministry officials came to another cell to take a man away to be executed. He put up a good fight, but the echo of his screams could still be heard vibrating off the walls. In a world like this, who would want to live? At least the line is moving forward.

**June 4th, 1999**

I found a piece of parchment in my soup. It read, "Things change. Even for my kind." I am sure it was sent by Malfoy. Food for thought.

Later:

I can't keep living like this. I can't keep seeing Ron's face. Or any of them. I can't. It's haunting me. I try to concentrate on what Ron told me the last night we spent together. He told me to think of Rose and Hugo, and what they look like. I know Rose has beautiful strawberry blonde curls that shine in the sun, with those curious and gorgeous deep brown eyes, and sweet pink smile. She is beautiful, and brave. Hugo has darker hair, a hint of red in it perhaps, and his eyes are exactly like Ron's. He looks so handsome, standing by his sister, smiling under the sun... calling to me. But I can't concentrate today. Their images keep slipping from my mind, and I cannot keep a firm grasp on them for long. I grabbed the bars of my cell, and tried to rip them out with the little strength I have left. To escape.

I remember I was begging for death. Begging. But I think Voldemort wants to keep me a live a while longer. To keep me miserable. It's his way of reminding himself as well as the whole world who has truly won. I yelled so loudly Malfoy came to my cell, opened it, and dropped a sleeping draught on the floor. I caught his shirt cuffs and asked him, "Why?" again. He looked frightened. He always does. All he said was, "I don't know anymore." I stared at the same place where he once stood for a long time after he left. Malfoy is a riddle. I picked up the sleeping draught, and I am pretty sure that prisoners aren't supposed to be given anything.

**June 6th, 1999**

Malfoy dropped of another loaf of bread with my food. He looked at me in the eyes as he did so. All I can think of is what he said._ "I don't know anymore."_ What doesn't he know? What does that mean? Is he lost? Regretful? Does this make him any less of a monster? No. No, it does not. As long as that Mark is on his arm, he is on Voldemort's side. Not on Harry's. He is an enemy.

I hate the position I'm in. Hate someone for what they've done, yet you're in debt to them because they made sure to feed you more than your share of food.

A/N: Shorter chapter than yesterday, but a lot of things happen here so I suppose it evens out. But at least Draco is in the story now... Next update tomorrow! And as always, thank you for reading! Make sure you review! I love feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

**...**

_Those Dark Days _ Chapter Three**  
**

**...**

**June 8th, 1999**

A woman was removed from her cell. Pleaded, "I swear, I didn't mean to, I was hungry, I needed to eat!" She pleaded, kicked, and screamed those words. I think I will go quietly when it is my turn. Get it over with.

**June 9th, 1999**

I remember when Voldemort asked us to pledge ourselves him, after Harry died. And Neville, said Harry was still in our hearts. I think Harry is gone. Everyone just looks too tired to carry on. We all look like we've had the dementor's kiss.

Later:

I'm losing hope. I need Ron here with me. To tell me that one day, we will live freely. But he's gone. Dead. I wrote "REBELLION" On the floor again. I have to keep fighting. I'm not weak, I must not lose hope, because then we have all truly lost. I cannot keep thinking about death. I have to think about bringing this world down, and restoring our faith in life once more. But how can I? I figure I have about a month to save the world.

**June 10th, 1999**

I didn't care. I needed answers. When Malfoy dropped off food I grabbed his hand again. He did not flinch. I think he expected it. "I don't understand." I told him, still gripping his hand, like it was the last shred of hope I would ever see. He looked like he was fighting an internal war with himself. For a second, I was afraid he might leave. And then he nodded, looking at me in the eyes with a determined look. That was all it took. I knew what it meant. That was enough for me.

**June 11th, 1999**

Malfoy gave me a meaningful look as he gave me the usual food and bread. Then he eyed my floor. His demeanor changed slightly, and resolve set in his eyes. Then he knelt down, and wrote, "Stay awake." on the dirt floor.

Later:

I stayed awake all night with curiosity. Mostly fear. Because if I sank into sleep I would relive the war. Or worse. Malfoy came though, after a while. I'm not sure what time, though I wish I could know. My clock had been confiscated upon my arrival here. But my journal hasn't. Thank you Arthur.

It was so dark I couldn't see two inches in front of me but I heard keys and a door slide open with a creak. I held my breath, even though I knew it was only Malfoy. We stayed silent for a few minutes. Then he asked me what got me in here. I did not reply. He seemed to think I wasn't cooperating because of this, because he gave an exasperated sigh. Then he said rather impatiently, "You want to know why?" And he told me. He said he felt obligated. It wasn't how it was supposed to be, this world. That he felt like a monster, because he never wanted to kill anyone, or be a catalyst in anyone's murder.

I didn't know how to react. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Maybe tomorrow.

**June 12th, 1999**

I remember when I asked Harry if Malfoy would ever kill Dumbledore. Harry said no. Because Malfoy lowered his wand. I have a feeling Malfoy didn't quite know what he was in for, when he took the Dark Mark. To think I was in denial all sixth year that he had become a Death Eater in the first place. But Harry suspected it, and he was correct. But what did he mean, yesterday? I admit he is puzzling me. I can see why he is unhappy, I mean, what kind of person would want the job he has? But why would he go as far as to help me, and explain to me his motives? I don't know, but I really think there's more to him than I first thought.

**June 13th, 1999**

Avada Kedavra. Flash. Dead. Scream. I think that was when I lost it all. I woke up in the middle of the night (or what I think was night). I had dreamt that Ron killed me. I didn't scream in my dream though, I just accepted it. Then I listened to someone crying until I fell asleep. Must be a newcomer.

**June 14th, 1999**

Things are different. Shifting. As if Draco Malfoy and I have reached an understanding. He pours me food, and we nod in acknowledgement. I decided that I don't feel an ounce of pity for him. I don't care what he told me that night. I don't care. I don't.

Later:

He came to my cell again tonight. He told me that his family was slipping in Voldemort's ranks during Hogwarts. It was fifth year, following Lucius Malfoy's capture in the Ministry of Magic. Malfoy wanted to be a Death Eater. But he soon realized it wasn't all he cut it out to be. I remember telling Harry the idea of a sixteen year old Death Eater was preposterous. But his father had joined. There was no way out. Even Lucius Malfoy wished to withdraw, Malfoy said. I found that mildly surprising. During the war, Malfoy kept switching sides, depending on which was winning, to save his own skin, as well as his family's. Then Voldemort learned about Narcissa, and how she lied about Harry's death. That was the last straw. I remember she died during the war. The Malfoys are now the lowest ranked pureblood family, forced to do mandatory jobs just like all the other lower ranked people. Malfoy's job is to feed those who will be executed. Not bad compared to the other jobs he tells me about. The thing is, Voldemort also killed Lucius. Now Malfoy was alone, chained to a life his family helped build.

And he's complaining to me. If I found anything worth laughing about, it's this. He is still a foul, evil, loathsome _monster_.

**June 15th, 1999**

I am actually starting to see his life and understand his point of view. I'm upset because I can't bring myself to hate him anymore. Once you truly understand someone, it's hard to hate them. I don't agree with his views, or his choices. But I understand where he came from when he made them. When he talks, I get the feeling he just needs someone to talk to. As if these were things that paraded his mind for some time, and just had to vocalize.

He made me feel pity for him some time ago. He was talking about how he grew up. The way he was treated. How he always admired his father, yet felt hurt by his scolding. How he was taught to treat those inferior like scum. Then he told me about the day when he saw my blood. He said he was filled with tumult: The blood was the same. Shocker, I know. I think he's relatively open with me now because he is alone in this world, and I am the only familiarity he has. With no parents around to judge him, I think he feels free in a sense, to release his true self. I realize there were things in his life out of his control. But not all. He could have opened his eyes to reality. He could have gone against all he felt was wrong, and refused to become a Death Eater. He had choices. He was just so high up on his high horse, he couldn't see below him. He could have been a great kid. He could have been like Sirius, who realized the ridiculousness of his family's pureblood superiority complex. But Malfoy functions on self-preservation. Sirius was giving, and self-sacrificing by nature.

**June 17th, 1999**

Today, Malfoy dropped off food on my plate, along with a message: _I know you think I'm a monster. I'm not._

Later:

Someone's crying. It's the newcomer again, I'm sure. It's a male voice. At first, it was real cries but now it just turned into whimpers. It got quite annoying, so I tried to look into the hallway, and tried to stick out my head as far as the bars would allow me. I caught sight of white-blond hair.

**June 18th, 1999**

I don't know how to react. I should have been the one crying. But instead, it was him. He came to my cell tonight, and told me it wasn't his fault. I suppose he means that all this isn't his fault, but I'm not sure. He doesn't speak clearly when he's with me. Just kind of lets his thoughts run wild. But he said he didn't choose to be this way. Said he spent so much of his life looking up to his father, who formed his views. Malfoy said his father was wrong to join Voldemort. Even his mother thought so, after Voldemort massacred everyone in their house during the war. Malfoy said he was trapped in a life he didn't want and couldn't do anything about. Then he said something shocking: He said that's why he was doing this. He hates the guilt that he feels, because he thought he should have done something to help Harry. I suppose Malfoy feeding me extra food makes him feel like he's helping Harry somehow. Perhaps that's all he can do.

The worst part is I felt pity.

**June 19th, 1999**

I remember when Dumbledore died. Everyone stood around his body, shocked. Harry was right next to Dumbledore, as Dumbledore's right-hand man should be. And everyone raised their wands, to wipe the Dark Mark from the ominous skies. I hated the man who killed him. Traitor. But there was a boy, just a boy, who would be scarred to life by this moment.

**June 20th, 1999**

Eight more people left. As of right now. A Ministry official just took a man away. The man did not fight, and I took a moment of silence, to admire his courage. Hopefully my time will come quickly. Because I can't shake the guilt I feel for the Weasleys. I swear, it haunts me, every. single. day.

It haunts me, just like Malfoy's smile haunts me, as he dropped off my food yesterday. It was more like an acknowledgement of the fact that we're in almost the same situation. I don't even know if I should count that as a smile. Because I don't remember what they look like anymore.

**June 21st, 1999**

I don't have many thoughts. I am empty. I have no soul, or spirit left. Only hate for the ones who rule this world. Only disgust for the ones who will live quietly. Only sadness for everything I've lost. Malfoy seems the same. He just left my cell. We were talking about our lives, and what they were before. He reminded me of better times. Of friends and family, and hope. I told him he ruined my life. I didn't mean it, or is that necessarily true, but I just started crying because I remembered better times. He just stormed out, without a word. He was angry by my remark, I know. But I don't care.

Shame, I thought we were actually getting along.

**June 22nd, 1999**

Today, while dropping off my food, Malfoy told me to stop pushing him away because he was probably going to be the last person I ever talk to. So I asked him why he even cared in the first place. I think some part of me was stubbornly refusing to admit he was right. But he said, "Some people have a conscience. A heart. I know it's hard to believe, but I'm not a monster. I've changed. You insult me for being prejudiced but it is you who is."

I don't know what's worse: Malfoy saying that to me, or admitting to myself that he's actually right? I suppose I do appreciate his company. I am here alone, after all. He keeps me on my toes with questions, and keeps me from getting pulled down by this depressing place. And in turn, I lend him an ear. I listen to him, and I'm there for him.

Later:

I think the Death Eaters gave up on interrogating me. They haven't come in weeks. I'm not complaining.

**June 23rd, 1999**

Seven more people.

I apologized to Malfoy. It was hard to do, and as a result I have no pride left. I cried for a large part of my day when I realized that. Because, what are we without pride? Nothing. I also cried for Ron, Molly, Arthur, George. Harry, Seamus, Neville. Everyone. Even for my children. Who don't exist.

Later:

Malfoy is capable of compassion. It was all so strange. I suppose it began when I dreamt of the war again. Of Harry, dead. Of Neville, being tortured. Of Seamus, dying. Of the light, leaving all the Weasleys eyes, and the feeling of empty devastation that engulfed my senses from then on.

And then… arms. Soft and warm like sunshine, wrapped around me. For a while, I allowed. I pretended it was Ron. I don't know what to do, when the only person in my life right now…. I just haven't felt that warmth in a long time. It was the first time I've had any pleasant human contact.

**June 24th, 1999**

I think he can hear me talk in my sleep. Malfoy asked who Rose and Hugo were. I couldn't reply. It was a strange feeling, knowing that someone else knows about your deepest desires, even if they have no clue what you're saying. I think he realized not to mention anything I talk about in my dreams, because he never mentioned it again. A part of me wanted to tell him. A part of me hoped that he would embrace me once more, because I miss that warmth.

Later:

Dear Ron,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I killed you, and now I'm breaking your heart.

**June 25th, 1999**

Six more people left. Malfoy comes to my cell regularly now. We just talk, but I can't shake what happened two days ago. We never mention it.

**June 26th, 1999**

REBELLION. I wrote it again. Because I'm losing it again. The fight, the will. It all keeps slipping. I noted that Malfoy looked concerned as he gave me my usual food and bread.

Later:

Malfoy learned not to talk about the past when I'm around. So we talk about the present, because the future holds unpleasant thoughts. Malfoy says he hates his job. He can never get too friendly with people here, because they're all going to die. So I said, "But you're talking to me?" and he replied, "it's different."

It's different. I don't know what to make of that. But afterwards, I had a sudden feeling that I didn't have much longer to live. It dawned on me, that time was running out for me. I am not immortal. And while I had that feeling, I blurted out a "thank you" to Malfoy. I thanked him for keeping me company. He said, "You're welcome, Hermione." _Hermione. _ That's my name. I had forgotten.

**June 27th, 1999**

Maybe it's because I'm alone with him constantly. Maybe it's because… after all that ridicule in school he gave me, I finally see something has changed in him. He's the one trapped in here. Not me. I have death to escape to. He doesn't. And the strange thing is, I feel badly for him, even though he's not the one in the execution line. I also feel something else for him. Trust. Understanding. I haven't felt that in a while.

Later:

Draco. Draco Malfoy. That's his name. I'm going to die soon, and I haven't called him by his given name. I trust him, understand him, and he's done so much to make my life just a bit better. He called me Hermione. And I can't use his name. It's just…_ strange_. Perhaps I'll write it. But I can't say it out loud. Not yet.

**June 28th, 1999**

I noticed today that I really look forward to Draco's visits. He told me while pouring my food that I seem pretty intact compared to the other prisoners. So I told him I had a diary. It was a leap of faith, doing that. But I hadn't thought of what I was saying until I saw his surprised eyes. Then I realized my mistake. I suppose the panic showed through in my eyes, because he knelt down, and wrote REBELLION. On the ground. I just stared at him. It shocked me. I still don't know what to make of it. Five more people to go.

Later:

I talked about Rose and Hugo, when Draco came tonight. I've never seen such mixture of emotions on a person's face before. His face was surprised, confused, pitiful, sad, and sympathetic at the same time. Then he told me about Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius is in the same world as Rose and Hugo. The world where they all exist in our hearts. But I told him that when he dies we can let the children play together. He didn't reply. But I know he would have liked that. Spending extreme amounts of time with someone let's one sense those types of things.

**June 29th, 1999**

Draco came into my cell and asked what I wrote in here. I told him: Day's events, to keep me sane. He said he can't imagine me ever losing my sanity.

There are four more people left. The line is shorter and I'm becoming scared. I thought it would be easy, leaving. But something makes me want to stay.

Later:

I had another nightmare tonight. I shook and screamed myself hoarse. Draco was there, so he calmed me down. I'm glad he was there. He held me close, rocking back and forth, until I calmed down. And then he kissed my forehead once I was almost asleep. I think I know why I want to stay.

A/N: So there you have chapter three! Expect the next update tomorrow. And if you're reading this, and you like the story, or if you wish things were different, please please leave a review! It means a lot to me when people give me feedback, and keeps me going on this story! And as always, thank you so much for reading (:


	4. Chapter 4

**...**

_Those Dark Days_ Chapter Four

**...**

**June 30th, 1999**

When I'm upset, or I cry, Draco calms me by soothing down my hair, and telling me everything will be fine. Just like Ron used to, when I found out the other family had alerted the Ministry to my presence. I'm in hysterics most of the time because there are only three people left. I don't want to die anymore. Please.

Later:

Today I asked Malfoy Draco if he ever loved anyone. I don't remember if he ever replied. I was just curious, and to be honest, he doesn't seem like the type of person who is capable of love.

**August 1st, 1999**

Life is precious. No matter how dark things are. I feel as if every minute… every moment counts. I try to memorize the feel of everything, as it grazes my fingers, or how things look through my eyes because I know it's all going to end soon. I don't want it to. Why is that? I was so eager…

Later:

We talked. I kept shivering with fear. So Draco embraced me once more. I didn't complain, because who knew when the next hug would come. Instead, I told him that he changed a lot, and that I found it surprising. He said, "I didn't, didn't I? It's taken me a nightmare of a world to realize it." Yes, it has taken him dead, and tortured people for Draco to realize we're all suffering together. We talked of REBELLION. We wrote it. Everywhere.

**August 2nd, 1999**

No. No. _NoNoNoNoNo. _Ron. Ron. Ron. _Ron. _Get that in your worthless head. RON. Not him. _NOT HIM. _How much more can I take? Ronald, I still love you. I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen. Never. I didn't… _I kissed him._ I was just so scared. He is the only source of comfort now, just like you once were. Please. I'm sorry.

Later:

It's really hard to explain. I'll try my best for my own sake. I could blame it on the lack of human contact. Or the fact that night and day, he's the only one I see. Or that I'm so worn and broken, that I can't think clearly. But I'm smarter than that. That's what's great about a journal. I've got nothing to hide. Though the above factors are true, and may contribute, I think it's the fact that I understand him more than I understand myself, which led me here. I've had to make nasty decisions to. He had to fix a vanishing cabinet. I had to erase memories. But the goal was the same: _Keep our families safe._ We're not completely alike. We're polar opposites sometimes. I'm accepting, he isn't. I'm in touch with my feelings, he is not. But I understand these differences. I may not like the choices he made, but I can see where he came from when he made them. Then I began to see him in a different light.

Ron, I hope you understand. I'm not asking for your forgiveness. You may not like it, but please, try and understand. Of course, I still love you. I always will but… he makes me happy. I need to let go if I want to live the very little life I have to the fullest. It isn't easy to make this decision. Nothing is easy, and Ron, don't think I left you. I wish you were here with me, every moment of the day. I do. But in a different way. I just have to let go, for me.

**August 3rd, 1999**

Something happened. Draco brought up that question I asked him weeks ago, _"Did you ever love anyone?" _He said, "Past? No. Present? Yes." And took my hand.

I think it's because we're both alone in life. If it wasn't for that it wouldn't have happened. But I suppose my lack of stopping him pushed him forward.

So he kissed me again. Soft, warm. Like the sun. He is my sun. He tasted like firewood, and jasmines. I let my feelings run away with me, and for the first time, I felt… content. Not quite happy, but close enough.

And then… We committed the ultimate rebellion.

I can't write anymore. I just can't.

**August 4th, 1999**

I remember his touches, grunts, hands… the feeling of being complete. Loved, even. I remember my fingers, and the feel of his skin underneath them. His face, contracting in bliss, and releasing in euphoria. The way his hair grazes his pensive silver eyes. The way he moves above and below me. His fiery, passionate kisses on my neck, lips, cheeks. Draco. I haven't felt that in so long. And suddenly, I saw Scorpius, Rose, and Hugo. All with the same, grey eyes and varying shades of blonde hair. That vision didn't shake me then, but it does now. Not the children themselves, just… Ron. But—After, Draco held me a while, and whispered that he loved me, and that he understands I still love Ron. As long as I can love him too. And I can.

I can't explain it. _I love Draco_. He is the thing I need, to deal with everything. To continue to do so. He's the only light in my life right now.

When he comes to my cell tonight, I shall thank him for rebelling with me.

**August 5th, 1999**

Two more people left. Draco sees my worried and pained face every day, and comes to my cell every night to make love to me. To rebel with me. Then we held each other, sharing secrets, and fears. I told him I fear my death. He held me closer. He doesn't want to lose me. I'm the only light in his life.

His eyes used to be a hard silver. I noticed they softened a bit. The circles under his eyes lightened. He looks… alive.

Later:

I did not have nightmares tonight. I notice that every time Draco is here, I don't. He chases them away. Good. I don't want to die with the images of war. I want to die with the image of me and Draco, loving each other among the soulless world.

**August 6th, 1999**

The end is near. One person left. Then I am to be taken away, I don't know where. Draco spends as much time with me as he can, without getting caught. Which isn't hard; He's often the only person in this prison.

I wish we could love during happy times. I wish I could wake up next to him, to a happy day and children. I want to talk Diagon Alley, his hand in mine, with little Draco's and Hermione's around us. Spend Christmas with him. Share my New Year's kiss with him. Die together. I want to love someone my whole life, but I won't. We wouldn't love each other if it weren't for this situation, I bet. But every moment I spend with Draco is gold. And I think Ron would want my last moments to be happy. Maybe not with Draco, but he would understand. I feel it. Ron's just that type of selfless person.

Everything is going by too quickly.

Later:

I shook with sobs. I'm so afraid. So frightened. Draco caressed my hair, and face, and kissed me until I fell asleep.

He never minded the fact that I'm always dirty.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry if I'm depressing some of you... I'm not a depressing person I promise. But I hope you all like it so far, and I really hope you all love the ending even more which is soon! Please please review and let me know what you think, because your input means a lot! (I also need to fix something I said in my warning back in chapter one... but I feel like the correction will ruin the story. Okay, well when I said there is character death, but not main character death...that has changed. There are character deaths. But I'm not telling you who :p )


	5. Chapter 5

_..._

_Those Dark Days _ Chapter Five- THE ENDING.

...

**July 7th, 1999**

I'M NEXT.

I spent the day with Draco. Talking, embracing, hugging, crying, kissing, loving. I showed him my journal. He can see it now, because I want him to see it. Arthur was a smart man.

I told Draco not to forget me, to love me after I'm gone, even if he's with someone else. I told him what I wished our life together was like, and he cried. I've never seen him cry before. He told me, "Thank you." For redeeming him, and seeing there was more than an empty soulless monster within him. We made love time and time again. I'm not going to sleep tonight. Why? When I will sleep forever so soon?

Life is precious: Ever word, breath, look counts. It certainty did with Draco and I.

And now we wait.

**July 8th, 1999**

Today, I hope I possess the courage to die. I, Hermione Granger have been through so much. But all in all, my life was worthwhile. I had loyal, trustworthy friends, a great family. Wonderful education.

And a chance to learn that not all people are what they seem. I'm going to die. I'm going to be with all my friends. I wish to see them, and hold them all again, but Draco keeps me here. I love him. I always will.

I will leave him this journal, so that I shall live on in the spirit of rebellion. I am proud to have finally rebelled. Muggle born and pureblood mixed together under love. That's rebellion. That's something Voldemort can never understand or take away.

Draco:

I love you, and will always love you, with every fiber I possess. Thank you for giving me life, strength and feeling. The nights spent with you were magical, and glorious. I'm sorry for judging you at first, but thank you for allowing me to see who you truly are. Even in death, I will remember your stormy grey eyes, which always regarded me with sweetness; your blonde hair like sunshine, your soft lips, your smooth hands. You. Don't ever feel like you were my second choice: I love Ron, but differently now. I never felt so content and at peace with Ron like I do with you. Honest.

I'll be waiting. I'll be in a beautiful house, by the sea, with Scorpius, Rose, and Hugo. I see them—Scorpius has your eyes, and your blond hair. Rose has brown hair, and your lips. Hugo has your face, and my eyes. I can't wait to meet them, and I can't wait to meet you there.

Don't forget me. Don't cry for me. Stay strong, because you're braver than you give yourself credit for. Don't shut yourself out from the world. Let people see who you are. You're beautiful. I love you, Draco Malfoy. I love you, and don't you regret a single thing you've done because it was all in good thought. When I go, please be strong. Keep fighting. For the rebellion.

I love you.

Hermione Granger-Malfoy.

**September 23rd, 1999**

It has taken great courage to write in here. Hermione, I love you too. Still- and always. After they took you, I think a piece of me left with you: my heart. I have one thanks to you.

But I'm next in line now. So I'll be seeing you, Scorpius, Rose, and Hugo soon. They sound wonderful. I've always wanted to be a father- a better one than the one I had.

It's huge news that a pureblood is being executed. Many rebellions by purebloods themselves have taken place due to this. They think it's an outrage. I hope it catches on. The world is terrible.

I remember on the day of your death, they pulled all the citizens out to watch. I was there. You winked at me. And I was confused as to why you would do that, until the moment when they asked you if you had any last words. And you said, "Draco Malfoy and I are in love." And you told the world about our love, and how deep it was. You were always the brightest witch of our age, and one to fight until the end. And what better way to rebel, than to proclaim your love-our love- to the Wizarding world? You are so clever, my love. The Dark Lord was shocked. I could tell. I think you knew he would be there. He himself would have loved to kill the last member of the Golden Trio.

But you didn't die. You live on, Hermione Granger, in the people setting fire to the town right now. To those who have hope- you still live on. You live on in my heart, and soul. I love you.

And thank you. Because I never truly knew what love was until I opened myself up to you. "A Malfoy doesn't have compassion." My father had once said. I think he was wrong.

Thank you for showing me love, meaning, and changing my ways.

I love you, Hermione Malfoy. No time left. See you soon, love.

Draco Malfoy.

...

_Hermione Granger's diary was found three weeks later, after the burning of the Ministry of Magic. It was found by Katie Bell, who read it, and showed it to the masses in order to inspire hope, and continue to fight against their oppressors. With Hermione and Draco in their hearts, the witches and wizards rose up one last time, and finally defeated Lord Voldemort on October 15__th__, 1999._ _Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend_

* * *

_A/N:_ Well, that's the ending! I hope it was satisfactory. I truly wanted Hermione and Draco to live, but it would be a bit to unrealistic if they suddenly escaped and saved the Wizarding World, wouldn't it? Thank you to everyone who stuck with me until the end! Oh, and I know this was an absurdly short chapter... I'm so sorry, but it was necessary! Thank you for all the reviews! Feel free to let me know how I did, and give me suggestions if you have them. Thank you for letting me share this story with you all (:

Expect more stories from me soon!


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